


Understanding.

by Jubbles



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: Asexuality Spectrum, Blood As Lube, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluid Sexuality, M/M, Profanity, Surprisingly Fluffy, graysexuality, pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubbles/pseuds/Jubbles
Summary: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!I wanted to celebrate Pride Month with a little piece showing a graysexual character. So we get to see things from a grown Pugsley's point of view and watch his learning curve over different sexualities and his (dis)likes
Kudos: 4





	Understanding.

Pugsley as an adult tries to emulate everything he saw his father and uncle doing. The first sexual experience? He couldn't understand how they did it so very _young_ at barely thirteen years of age. What the fuck is sex? He tried thinking about it. Inserting phallic objects in someone's hole? Well, that sounded like something right up his alley! He loved putting dynamites in strategically loud and messy places.

But then he realized it wasn't a phallic object but his cock itself that was needed for "proper" sex... Which... Sounded awkward and not nearly as pleasurable as what he was thinking about. Why even bother with sex then?!

And then he met her and saw BLOOD.

Oh. Suddenly, seeing a human being pushing their fingers inside a vagina sounded as delightul as a fistful of dynamite. The way blood gushed out like an artery surrending their strenght and painted the path she was walking on the Addams cemitery was perhaps highlighted by the moon, graciously allowing him to see her pale face and the bright red blood in an even better contrast.

He wanted to, maybe, be the one to capably extract her life force in drips. Help her out in whatever she was doing outside when everyone else was at the ballroom dancing the night away.

And he did managed to help, hmm. He helped her bless the ground in lunar blood and they danced out with blood dirt hands gripping one another.

It was strange. Exquisite. He made the same faces uncle Fester did whenever he remembers Debbie and her teasing. So it seemed he was attracted at last to what people erroneusly say is the fair sex. She could be an Addams by marriage and not only by craddle! Momma would be so proud.

Or maybe not. Whenever he sees her in sunlight, with her face clean and modest black clothing hiding her scars... He feels less speelbound, as if that first impression was just a fluke and he had drank more and more whenever he brushed elbows wih the guests and smoked the cigars of the fashionable.

She tried kissing him when their chaperone left and it was nice. Actually nice to be able for feel texture on the inside, discover warmth and slick, comforting as licking a sword clean even if it was a newer sensation. He could get used to that. And then she had to ruin it by placing her hand on his crotch. A frown started to show in his face, but he didn’t stop kissing her just because someone wanted a handle and oh she bit his neck and that _was_ a good idea, wasn’t it, experimenting the tendons on her neck and the best and supple way to pierce her skin. His blunt teeth wasn’t much ideal for that to work but one can try.

Until she tried to grip him harder. Things obviously weren’t going to end well. He took her hand off of his body, offered a grenade and asked if she wanted some tea yet? He didn’t want to spend another minute alone with her if she couldn’t keep her to herself and not bother with... with... disusting acts out of boredom.

There were others too, at school, parks, museums, foreign countries. They wanted to touch and not only talk. Fuck but not strangle. Use and be used but in such a way that violated all of his values and made everything look gray, icy and unappealing. And he _likes_ such things!!! He will not have that pleasure taken from him just because he’s different and people are pushing for something to happen and they seem to enjoy it. So. He tries.

It’s not bad. But it’s not very good either. Sometimes is better because he’s already happy and primed for whatever else is added into his bill of feelings and sensations.

But it alone? Doesn’t interest him.

One time, however, they were bar hopping in the city and they entered a dungeon. Pugsley never felt so _at home_! It has been such a long time since his last Addams’ party that he felt stranger in his own skin when he had to play nice with this prudish society.

But a dungeon! Oh now that’s what _calls_ him in the end. Fetishes, kinks, watching, touching, tasting it, taking it!

Putting on a leash, kneeling, staying inside a cage were as safe as the games and pranks he did with Wednesday, it soothed a nostalgic feeling inside of him and arouse a raging beast all at at once. And meeting _him_ was a gift sent straight from the earth, ashes, súlfur and rawness altogether wrapped in the firmest hands of his life.

He led Pugsley around his own mind without falling in pitfalls of surprise disgust and reactions, he understood and respected his take on touch, on sex, on _weirdness_ because, as put by himself, he was weird as well. It took time and self reflection to see oneself outside of the imagined perfection of the world and understand the differences inside. And it’s another long journey towards acceptance of the unconventional. To, at last, appreciate that the so called weirdness inside is perfectly normal for you and for other kindred souls out there.

He is going to marry this handsome golden bastard! And he will personally build his own dungeon and toys as a courting gift if that’s what it takes to make those eyes continue to sparkle in satisfaction and devious plots.

They played, sweated, enjoyed, bled and learned together. It went so far as Pugsley jokingly putting a chinese finger trap in between both of their ring fingers and taking his beau to the family mansion to meet his parents. Eating dinner that night was messy and joyful as approval was met around the table.

And then it was time to return the favor and Pugsley got a metal shackle around his cock and balls and greeted his possible in-laws with politeness and fake laughter and he would not scare the insipid beings due to a threat to his manhood, he wasn’t! He talked stock market talk, ate overly complicated chicken breast and he tittered delighted with the idea of a beach vacation with both sets of parents. Because the longer the night grew, the heavier the manacles felt, exacerbating the urge of belonging to someone as deeply as he already felt like. Belonging in his skin in all the internal and external varieties there are in existence.

There is ellegance, fear, excitement in midst of the wedding preparations. To go back to meaningless mating habits just because someone said so was in a realm of impossibility, regardless of the fact that he had a deep and meaningful conversation with his father about how a married couple had to keep sparks so no lethal fatalities incurred in a marriage. Of course there was a similar talk about how accidental deaths could be avoided if one truly wished to remain above ground for a while. And didn’t that sparkle a remembrance of the way his fiancé's muscles tensed, quivering, like the tautest bow before he shot the tiniest dagger at him?!

At any rate, muddling in this gray area of attraction and interest in any of the possible conjuctions ~~(attraction plus interest, attraction and no interest, zero attraction plus interest, zero attraction and no interest~~ ) is a bit less confusing now. It fairly depends of the moment and the person. Naturally, he thought back on someone and on a possible experiment they could have.

He couldn’t understand how she even let him near her, after so many rejections he gave her, some ultimately harsher than others. If there is one thing that he has noticed from her, though, is her patience. And a surprisingly lack of grudge. Positively anti-Addams, she was then! Not that he would complain much. That is, when she finally stops with the smug damn comments of how she could have foreseen how much he would beg to have her back, that cursed witch.

Beautiful, enchanting, tempting, and oh so very his at this point. “Mine”, he said, going from lubrication, to solo masturbation, to _good_ partnered sex, sex with a hint of something more than just thrusting and unappealing fluids. There was _interest_ for once, attraction, and maybe looking isn't nearly as fun as taking part of her this time around.

She's beautiful! The way her soft skin shudders and all that fat gives way to his knife, sinking inside of her flesh like a sexual sacrament. Her moans are litany and prayers, all pleases and stops and go ons. Because she's such a doll she lets him experiment with multiple points of entry and how changing the angle at the same spot gives different results of pleasure and pain. The way her hair gets matted, mixing with the dark red and the _tears_! Superb!

Spiking needles in her nipples or below the nails, seeing her claw at nothing, twist and turn sightless in rapture. Tormenting her was sweet, therefore he lovingly carved sweet nothings on her skin, blood curving on the words trying to sooth any anger from the past.

They have an understanding, he and his husband. And that's the most beautiful thing about them. The soft bosom of the friend he got to keep even after he was forced to reject her over and over because... It is unimportant now. Muscled hands are in his field of vision, steady hands that got used to adjusting handmade grenades in every single Family party nowadays, and got him to appreciate how dexterous and nice it can make tying up a knot... when it's too tight and pressed high on his neck, cutting off his breath but not his circulation, because the new fantastic bulge in his pants clearly says he's having a good time.

Because it wasn't the sex that was important, it was the rush of sensations, the high of feelings, of hypersensitivity everywhere, from the tip of the toes, to the neurons in the brain. Because penetration is so remarkably boring, unoriginal, crude, when you can reach more pleasurable nerves by walking on a path of nails. ~~Ugh~~ feels so damn good.

Plus blood tasted so damn fine, better, actually, than any sticky fluid made for penetrative lubrication.

This is what attracts him, what makes him ache and shiver and _want_ to engage in. Not really always. Not even physically sometimes. He's very much into directing, watching them play around the bed, wallowing in blood and fluids like pigs in human form. ( ~~Exactly as humans turn themselves into beasts to perform a sexual act!~~ )

As Pugsley is now back into the safety of his family, there is no more room for the concept of being sexually broken. Because the Addams prey on the strange and eerie, and they would never judge something as stupid as having different sexualities as “broken”.

(Unless you're Gomez and Mortícia Addams, only: those two have the most interestingly primal dynamics that would kill feeble and weaker people that attempted that intensity themselves)


End file.
